


mon tabarnac jva te décalisser la yeule, calice

by scatterscroll



Category: Goon (2011)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angry French Canadians, Established Relationship, Multi, Not-Birthday Sex, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:35:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatterscroll/pseuds/scatterscroll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ira worries about his brother, but he doesn't have to. Doug's in good hands with Eva. Xavier, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mon tabarnac jva te décalisser la yeule, calice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [norgbelulah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/norgbelulah/gifts).



“We’re having a birthday lunch tomorrow,” Doug says before any of them can manage to drift off to sleep.

Eva just murmurs to send her regards to whoever. She’s been out with guys from the Highlanders a time or two, but that doesn’t mean she really has an in when it comes to team activities.

“Whose birthday?” Xavier asks with confused irritation. Post-coital sleep is sacred to him. So are his afternoon game-day naps.

“Mine,” Doug says softly. He’s talking into Eva’s hair, hoping to muffle that. His arms are still looped loosely around her, his bulk pressed tight against her back.

It’s not really Doug’s birthday yet. That’s not for a week and a half, but tomorrow’s when his brother can come up.

“He’s got a busy doctor schedule,” Doug explains when Eva asks about that. “I’ve never been in another country for my birthday before,” he says.

Eva agrees to go easily. She spends many of her lunch breaks out with Doug – who has never really stopped courting her – and occasionally Xavier entices them to head back to the apartment too. They’re much preferable company to her co-workers.

Ira, Eva doesn’t know too well. They’ve gone to one hockey game together and it was Pat who talked to him mostly. She thinks he’s nice anyway – not in the sweet way that Doug is, but he’s polite. He seems to be a good brother too.

Doug mostly just seems happy about it even when he says Ira won’t be around for very long, just a few hours. Eva doesn’t ask about the rest of his family.

Xavier grumbles incomprehensibly into Doug’s shoulder.

*

Ira takes them somewhere nice after Eva meets them all at his hotel. She misses Xavier being introduced to him for the first time.

Ira doesn’t seem too uncomfortable recalling being asked, “The gay brother, right?” Doug talks about him like that sometimes, but not cruelly – Eva supposes he knows that.

Their meeting is less eventful than when Pat and Xavier met though – a story Eva’s only hearing now too.

Ira looks rough around the edges, tired, but laughs along. He doesn’t try to dissemble when Eva asks after him, just says he’s finishing up his residency and it’s been a tough week.

Xavier looks like a tool, wearing his sunglasses though it’s typically downcast. Eva really couldn’t dress up – she has to wear a uniform – but she wishes she could have.

The brothers are really treating it like an occasion. Ira defers the food choices to Doug and laughs when Doug doesn’t go for ‘his favorites’, instead asking to try some of the dishes marked as specialties.

Xavier takes to mocking his French, before correcting their order with the waiter.

They talk a little about how good the food is, but Ira lets Xavier and Eva lead most of the rest of the conversation. Doug chimes in from time to time, but mostly just sits back with a big, open grin.

The Victoires are in town and Xavier gets snarly when she mentions their winning streak and how the team’s PK probably won’t hold up against them later.

“You need to avoid penalties,” Eva says, not really addressing either of them specifically. “Unless you’re drawing them,” she snickers.

There was a small Twitter commotion last night when Simard, Mack, and a few others hinted at not particularly being fans of LaFlamme’s diving career.

Xavier pontificates about how he doesn’t _dive._ She’s right to call it drawing the penalty – a legitimate strategy when there are so many blind referees, apparently.

Doug protests to that. “They just do the best they can.”

Xavier scoffs. “I _help_ them with that.”

It’s a pleasant meal that ends too soon, but they have to head back to their apartment before going to the rink.

Ira pays, “Not as a gift,” he says. “Save that for later, after the game.” He pats his leather satchel.

He offers to walk Eva back to work, even though his hotel is closer.

Ira asks questions about the match-up he’s seeing in a couple of hours and Eva’s comments.

“You get penalties for fighting, right? Not to be rude, but isn’t that mostly what Doug does?”

“Not all penalties are bad,” Eva answers patiently. “The other team just has a really good powerplay right now. You know what that is, yeah?” She didn’t have to explain much to him the last time they saw each other, though he clearly wasn’t a hockey fan. He’s smart.

“I do,” he answers.

“Besides, fighting’s different,” Eva says, “Usually, both the guys get dinged and there really isn’t a problem of being down a man.”

Ira nods, saying, “I noticed that.”

He chews over that for a while, clearly thinking while they cross a few more blocks.

“I guess I’ve just wondered about how Doug’s …role really works. It’s kind of counterintuitive to me for teams to specifically have these ‘enforcers’–” he stumbles over the word, “–for, well, for vengeance.”

Ira clearly doesn't watch any hockey that Doug doesn't play. Clearly didn’t watch it before when things were a lot different. Worse, maybe, if he doesn’t enjoy the vengeance and the violence like most fans do.

“He doesn’t play a lot, when I do see his games,” Ira continues talking on. “LaFlamme does a lot more. He seems to only be there to fight. Doug, that is. That’s not very sustainable, is it?”

Eva sighs as she looks at her watch. She’s running a little bit more than the ‘a little late’ she asked to be today. It’s nice that Doug has an understanding brother though. Or, a brother _trying_ to understand, she guesses.

"Don't all hockey players get into fights, at some point?" Ira asks, getting off track a little. “How special will Doug be, for how long?” Or not.

"Xavier doesn't, not really," Eva says, with something like a snort. “Not many players do. I mean, I know you’ve seen games where even Doug doesn’t take a beating or give one.”

Eva’s supervisor has got her back to the door, so she has a little time to calm the worries of Ira.

“Look, about Doug,” she tries to keep her voice even and assured, “He’s gotten a lot a better at the being-a-hockey-player part. He’s on their team’s powerplay, and that’s pretty special. It’s for the really good players on a team,” she explains. She’s kind of proud and she thinks Ira is too, hesitantly.

“Xavier’s been a big help. I know he seems like an asshole–” and here even she has to break off into a laugh, as serious as what’s she’s saying is, “I mean, I _know_ he’s an asshole, but seriously things are good for Doug. He’s got friends.”

Ira breathes deep and exhales in a sigh. He looks cold, shivery and cheeks unnaturally pink. But he smiles at her, “I know. Thank _you_.”

While they hug goodbye, Eva says, “Not just me. See you later.”

*

As it turns out, the game doesn’t do much to give Eva’s earlier assurances credence. The Victoires play a tight checking game and outskate the team pretty badly. Doug gets practically benched and only plays half a minute on the powerplay the whole night. And they’ve taken a lot of penalties, despite Eva’s earlier warnings.

Heading into the second intermission, it’s 3-0.

Xavier’s been visibly agitated all night. Simard hasn’t tried anything again. ( _Yet_ , a voice whispers to Eva.) The defense has his number though. His last two shifts, he’s taken to banging his stick against the boards when he’s had to make the change.

The Victoires were on a win streak, but Xavier had been on a pretty good point streak himself. Four goals in the last three games and he seemed confident today.

Ira is restrained and clutching his near-empty cup of pop. Without Pat as a buffer, they had fairly normal conversation as the game started. Ira walked around Halifax some more. He asked her if she’s familiar with two small bookstores he’d spent most of the afternoon in.

The idle chatter instead of the intense chirping of visiting fans was a bit of a surreal experience. It’s not usually part of _her_ game-day routine.

Now, save for the few Victoires fans in blue face paint yelling like idiots it’s fucking quiet.

Their seats this game are right up close to the glass – Ira’s purchases. Eva bets he’d have liked to see a better game up close. Neither Doug nor Xavier have looked over since the first period either.

The Zambonis get off the ice and the teams exit the tunnels just as Eva thinks the sick tension in her stomach and the silence are about to swallow her up. She hasn’t had an early dinner like she usually would, Ira promising to take them out again after the game.

Getting play started doesn’t really help with that much. They’ve shuffled lines but Xavier isn’t playing any better and Doug still hasn’t played 5 minutes into the period.

They finally get a breakaway because of some nice hustle from Kim and Eva’s focused on the two on one, barely noticing that Xavier’s getting into it with Simard again behind the play.

The loud _ping_ of the puck against the post is followed by a collective groan and a delayed penalty gets called.

Xavier’s got to be close to a game misconduct the way he’s cursing Simard and the ref both. The other referee had to skate up to help break up the two of them smashed against the far boards.

His gold mouthguard is popped out of his mouth again and he seems to be trying to spit on Simard, who has his gloves off – taunting Doug on the bench all while making lunges at Xavier who’s skating backwards now.

Both of them get called for roughing. A rowdy guy in the crowd aims his drink at Xavier in the penalty box and, while he doesn’t get drenched, his hair will end up sticky later.

Xavier is even more riled up after that. He yells at any number of guys in Victoires jerseys from that part of the stands every time he skates by.

She can’t hear him from where they’re sitting but her lip-reading is decent enough to make out _enculè_ , _calice_ , and other mainstays of his vocabulary.

He's looking almost ready to take on Simard. He doesn't get called for any of it, but he makes trouble and gets Simard, at least, off his game.

That doesn’t make things go any better for the Highlanders. Doug gets to play a couple of shifts at the close of the game, but there aren’t any more scoring opportunities and Simard doesn’t even want to go when Doug manages to chase him down. Instead, the jackass just points to the scoreboard and shrugs. No one treats Doug like he's not worth the fight, but Doug can't take this further than some shoving when they're tied up at the boards. Coach probably has Doug on a short leash for this one, given the history.

The Victoires pick up a road win and a shutout – managing to escape the curse of the soft _‘shutout’_ chant that picked up in the last minute. The Quebeckers roadtripping with the team are idiots and Eva hates them more than usual.

Both Doug and Xavier are exuding the same anger as they skate off the ice. The air of danger is still hot, as unfulfilled as it is tonight.

*

Ira asks if they should go ahead to the restaurant, but Eva knows Xavier brought a car. They can ride together. She convinces him they can wait in the parking lot. It’s a lot more fun to meet guys out of the dressing room on the heels of a victory. After a loss, it’s just kind of depressing.

Eva knows they’re on their way because she can hear Xavier’s irritated growl. “Bouge, sinon je t'encule,” he spits at a crowd of lingering Quebec fans.

There are a few girls who are suggestively gesturing at him too, offering consolation pity sex probably. It just makes Xavier’s face cloud further.

Ira's just as put out by the dour mood that they decide to skip a sit-down dinner and get some greasy take-out and pick up beer on the way back to the apartment. Xavier’s a reckless, angry driver but he wouldn’t let anyone else even _see_ his keys.

Doug kicks Eva’s chair rhythmically. The silence here is almost as bad as earlier. Eva turns on the TV just to hear the news droning on in the background.

Ira gives an awkward cough. “Sorry,” he says, with a crooked grin. “I couldn’t keep up being a good luck charm.”

Doug gives a small grin in answer, punching his brother’s arm lightly. Ira rubs absent-mindedly anyway. Ira’s leaving early in the morning and this is the last time he’ll see his brother for months, probably.

“And, uh, I can’t even offer you my doctorly services. Your face is–” Ira continues, chuckling and gesturing at Doug’s face, “I can’t do anything with that.”

It’s really nice that he makes the effort to lighten the mood, as much as his jokes are falling flat.

Xavier makes a bit of a scandalized noise, “You’re a plastic surgeon?” He’s looking between the two brothers like they’ve withheld an important secret here.

Ira laughs more genuinely at this and Doug just looks puzzled. “No,” Doug answers for him, like he’s offended. “It’s a joke of Ira’s – he’ll have to take up as his, uh, specialty just for me.”

Xavier sighs like he’s immensely put out by that and says, “Not that _I_ would need one. You can’t do anything with this face either, right?” And Xavier’s cheesing at everyone at the table, playing up his smirk.

“I have a very nice mouth, don’t I?” Xavier continues, leaning into Ira’s space.

Ira doesn’t miss a beat, asking, “Are you hitting on me?”

Xavier continues to grin and Ira demurs, pleased but surprised by everyone’s laughs, by adding, “I have a boyfriend already, so really I couldn’t tell you about your looks.”

Xavier huffs out a breath, still playing the caricature of himself as he says, “Everyone tells me about my looks.”

Eva rolls her eyes. All the puck bunnies might. “You look a like a drug addict,” she tries to tell him seriously, “ _Especially_ in the mornings.”

His nostrils flare in anger, much like they did earlier in the night.

Ira piles on, nodding, “You know I do see overdose cases in the emergency room sometimes. You know you look _very_ pale.”

All of it’s in jest, but Doug breaks in earnestly, “He’s not doing drugs anymore.”

Ira just giggles at his brother, while Eva and Xavier stare at him dumbfounded.

Ira uses a serious, very doctorly voice to say, “That’s good to hear.” He even turns to Xavier to nod and he shakes his head like he can’t believe the day he’s had.

Eva realizes they are a weird bunch and it must have been _quite_ a day. She starts clearing the table of the cartons they’re mostly done eating out of and Ira stands to leave.

He takes out his present for Doug. “Don’t open it ‘til your actual birthday, okay?” Ira tells him.

They hug goodbye and Ira wishes him a happy birthday.

Xavier already has his hands on it, trying to shake the present that isn’t even his.

*

“You do have a real _mouth_ on you,” Eva says to Xavier when he closes the door behind Ira at last.

The remark’s a tease in more than one way. The lights aren’t turned on yet in the room that they share but she hopes the two of them can see her leering, looking just as wicked as Xavier on his best days.

Xavier shakes off the last of his dark mood and slips into his part of the script easy. “Bet you’d like this ‘real mouth’ on you, eh?”

Post-game victory sex is pretty amazing, but Eva’s okay with angry post-loss sex too.

Doug reaches her first and they’re soon pressed tight up against the near wall, hips gravitating together. The sound of their kissing is punctuated by even more vulgarities from Xavier who strips quickly, with none of his usual teasing.

Eva pushes back against Doug because she does love Xavier’s quick tongue and she doesn’t want to fuck against the wall today.

They make it to the bed, undressing each other, to land close to where Xavier’s watching them with hot eyes while palming himself lazily.

Xavier kisses both of them hungrily. First Doug, who’s lying beneath her and left breathing heavily. Then her, as she straddles Doug’s chest and he comes up behind her. She’s holding herself up with her hands on the headboard, her face twisted to meet his.

Doug’s fingers dig into her waist. Xavier trails his sloppy-mouthed kisses from her ear, down to her jaw and her nape. Both of them hard against her.

When Xavier reaches down to stroke Doug around her, she moves up on her knees closer to Doug’s face. She straddles his chest, leaning down for more kisses. He gasps into them and she hears the sound of sucking behind her.

Xavier’s going down on Doug and Eva really really wants to sit on Doug’s face. So she asks him, “Can I sit on your face?”

His hips buck off the bed and he says, “ _Fuck_ yes.”

Xavier leans over to whisper filthy compliments to Eva, abandoning the blowjob.

She rides Doug’s face, whimpering when the surface of his teeth glance against her clit. The feeling of his tongue fucking in and out of her desperately is fantastic though.

She’s a little more frantic about things tonight, ready to come already. Xavier using his fingers on her clit just makes her come all the faster.

When she climbs off of Doug, she doesn’t expect Xavier to have his turn. She wants to watch them.

“I thought you wanted my mouth,” he says and she didn’t forget that, so she spreads her legs again for him.

The onslaught after her last climax is a bit much. He’s licking and sucking on her clit, his fingers expertly playing with her – caressing her folds gently then fucking into her mercilessly. Her second orgasm comes before she even has a chance to recover from the first.

She looks over at Doug as she’s shaking and gasping. He’s got a goofy grin on his face as he jacks his cock in a steady rhythm, not in any sort of rush.

Xavier is kneeling astride her now, his dick pressing against her, sliding between her slick folds. She has to push him away though.

“Fuck Doug,” she says. She can’t really take more, not right now.

He sighs, but does roll off of her. “Tu-veux-tu?” he directs at Doug, who doesn’t have time to process the question before Xavier leans over him. He snatches the lube from the bedside table. It’s not even in the drawer, which would be embarrassing if they ever had any company over. They don’t usually.

Xavier covers two of his fingers in lube, quickly pressing both of them into himself with a hiss. “Bonne fête,” Xavier murmurs.

“Bon fee...?” Doug repeats slowly, while sort of getting with the program and guiding Xavier atop him.

Doug doesn’t understand any French, even after all this time. It’s funny sometimes how he can easily tune out all of the dirty talk Xavier can toss out in a night. Sometimes, that’s the only thing he puts any effort into in bed.

Eva almost wishes her body would let her enjoy this more, but she’s too overstimulated to even touch herself as she watches Xavier slowly sink down onto Doug’s cock.

Xavier isn’t quiet now, telling Doug how good it is in whatever language he can remember at the moment.

They’re rough with each other and the atmosphere has got the sort of hard edges Eva has come to expect of them when they’ve been disappointed by the game.

Eva wraps her hand around Xavier’s length and doesn’t tease, setting a fast rhythm and rubbing the head on the upstroke. Xavier's neck is pulled back, his long hair fisted in both of Doug’s hands when he comes. He always makes this primal sound when he comes – a long, deep growl.

Xavier doesn’t stop pumping his hips when he’s done though, urging Doug on and abandoning all his slick words for a soft and steady chant of, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.”

“Bon …fee?” Doug asks again, after his own orgasm.

“Happy birthday,” Eva translates for him.

“Not yet my birthday,” Doug says through a yawn, after Eva gets them both to clean up with some wet wipes that _are_ kept in a drawer.

“Might as well celebrate something,” Xavier mutters. He slings an arm around Doug, lacing his fingers with Eva’s across Doug’s chest.


End file.
